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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29106543">You Carry Me, I'll Carry You</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/round_robin/pseuds/round_robin'>round_robin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Song of the Grey Wolf [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Family Fluff, Gen, Kaer Morhen, Papa Vesemir, Winter At Kaer Morhen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 14:15:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,816</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29106543</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/round_robin/pseuds/round_robin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You'll find, there are many ways to be a father.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Song of the Grey Wolf [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2134503</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>169</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Carry You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Thank you to Rawrkin JD for asking me to contribute to this series filled with love for our favorite old Witcher, Papa Vesemir. Vesemir as a stern, but still loving father makes me all soft and squishy. Here are two little fics of Vesemir and his boys.</p><p>The first one is a prompt from my tumblr from araglas1989 who asked for Vesemir doing little fatherly things for his pups during the winter. To me, all I could see him doing was gently carrying his sleeping boys off to bed when they fell asleep during the winter, so that's what I went with. This is just a short little thing, but it makes me smile to this day. Please enjoy &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Witchers were trained to sleep anywhere—cold, muddy ground, the floor of a forest covered with crawling bugs, on the deck of a ship, anywhere—but never to sleep too deep, lest they get caught off guard and meet their end stupidly. Any Witcher knew to snap awake at the smallest sound, blade in their hand, ready to fight. This was the instinct drilled into them from day one, always have one eye open to watch for the knife at your throat.</p><p>In their home, at Kaer Morhen in the winter, with a blanket of snow covering the world, making each sound soft and muted, they pushed this instinct down, slumbering deep, getting the rest they denied themselves over the long year. Couple this with the ability to sleep on any terrain, and Vesemir had found his boys in some truly strange places.</p><p>Sometimes, after an afternoon of Gwent, they were too tired to go back upstairs for their nap and curled up on the worn benches of the dining hall table, or on the rug in front of the cooking fire. Vesemir walked in to find Lambert slumped across the table, one lip stuck to the wood with drool, while Geralt was curled in front of the fire, both snoring loud enough to wake the dead. Shaking his head, Vesemir carefully lifted Lambert. No matter how big they got, he could always carry his pups in his arms, protect them when they needed it. No one else would, and Vesemir took the job gladly.</p><p>Sliding a soothing hand over his back, he quieted the first rumbles of wakefulness. “Not trying to wake you,” he whispered, setting Lambert down next to Geralt. Sensing another warm body, the White Wolf rolled over, throwing a heavy leg over Lambert's hips and squishing him in. A small dent formed between Lambert's eyes and he wiggled, getting comfortable once again. The tension faded from his face and they slept on, warmed by the fire.</p><p>Vesemir found Eskel sleeping in the library almost every day, a book or old scroll hanging precariously from his largest son's fingers, about to fall. Rescuing the book, he set it softly on a table before heaving Eskel over his shoulder. Larger and broader than the others, Eskel still fit in his arms like he was a wee babe, sniffling and crying through the night, the smells and noises of the castle strange and foreign to young ears. It smelled like home soon enough, but Vesemir treasured those bitter sweet memories of rocking his pups to sleep when they were still small enough to fit in one arm. Now, he needed both arms to lift Eskel, trying to shush and coo as he grunted his way up the stairs.</p><p>Up in Eskel's room, he stripped the young Wolf's boots and tunic before tucking him into the bed. “Good boy, you get some rest.” They were all good about completing their chores before sacking out on any table, couch or rug they could find, and Vesemir didn't begrudge them their rest. He knew The Path waited for them on the other side of winter, with its sleepless nights and too much pain. He offered them comfort where he could.</p><p>The year Geralt brought the bard to stay with him, Vesemir sighed. Another body to carry around. But Jaskier was good about getting them to sleep in appropriate places—library couches were in, the dining hall floor was out—and Vesemir took to finding all four piled together in front of the same fire, the human pressed between them.</p><p>Smiling to himself, he went to close the library door, when a small sound called him back. “Vesemir?” Sleepy blue eyes blinked over the mound of Eskel's thick shoulder. “Come nap with us. Is nice...” he slurred.</p><p>Vesemir nodded and walked back across the room, sitting down in the chair closest to the fire. “Back's too old for the floor.” A well sculpted eyebrow arched at that lie; by now, Jaskier had seen Vesemir carrying all three of them across the keep, his back as strong as ever. “But I'll stay here.” He leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes.</p><p>Jaskier's head dropped down onto Lambert's firm chest and his breathing soon slowed into sleep. Vesemir cracked one eye open to look down at his pups, now four in their number. Maybe he deserved a little rest too. Soon, the library was filled with a chorus of soft breathing and rumbling snores, all five residents of Kaer Morhen together in sleep.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Carry Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>“I'm fine!” Vesemir shouted for the hundredth time. They stopped listening to him out in the courtyard, just dragged his ungrateful ass inside and put him in the arm chair by the fire.</p><p>Lambert huffed. “Yeah, fine, I can see that. You threw out your back, admit it, old man.”</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Another prompt from araglas1989 that still makes me smile (they love Papa Vesemir as much as I do). They asked for the boys taking care of Vesemir for once after an injury. Please enjoy &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I'm fine!” Vesemir shouted for the hundredth time. They stopped listening to him out in the courtyard, just dragged his ungrateful ass inside and put him in the arm chair by the fire, the one Vesemir put there for slower chores, mending, shelling peas, peeling potatoes, it was easier on the back than a kitchen stool and now he was trying to wiggle out of it.</p><p>“I'm fucking—ah!” Vesemir tried to stand up and a sharp pain shot through his back, the same sharp pain that rendered him useless out in the courtyard.</p><p>Lambert huffed. “Yeah, fine, I can see that. You threw out your back, admit it, old man.”</p><p>“I did not!” Vesemir growled.</p><p>They stopped listening to him again, fanning out through the hall to fetch what they needed to assist with Vesemir's new injury. Eskel returned first with another pillow to cushion his back, looking down at him with those far too patient eyes before Vesemir begrudgingly leaned forward, hissing at the twinge, and let Eskel help.</p><p>“Don't you remember last year?” he asked, kneeling down and stripping Vesemir's boots. “Geralt fucked up his bad leg on the scaffolding. We gave him shit but you lectured us about how 'winter is time for the body to heal, let it heal right or die on The Path.' You should take your own advice. Let us help you heal right.”</p><p>He grunted again. “I don't go on The Path anymore, no risk of me crippling myself if I don't spend the next two days on my ass. And besides, my back is fine.”</p><p>Lambert said nothing and threw a blanket across his legs before walking away, leaving Eskel to tuck it in. Lambert would only be so helpful. “Rest,” Eskel said.</p><p>No matter how much he grumbled, they didn't leave him alone... well, they did, but they didn't leave the hall. Eskel went to the kitchen to finish up their afternoon meal, Geralt puttered around tending the small chores Vesemir still had to take care of—stacking more wood by the fire for later, gathering the mending Vesemir planned to see to after training. “I can do that,” Vesemir growled, trying to get up only to have his back protest again.</p><p>“I've got it,” Geralt said.</p><p>Vesemir cast around for another excuse, some reason he shouldn't be banished to sit in a comfy chair in front of the fire. He wasn't that useless yet, back injury be damned. He tried to get up again when a book landed in his lap.</p><p>When he didn't pick it up, Lambert opened it and put it in his hands. “Sit. Read. Don't make your back any worse. I'm not carrying you up the stairs tonight.”</p><p>With yet another grumble, Vesemir opened the book and tried to relax. His back did fucking hurt, a trip down to the hot springs should fix it though, it definitely wasn't as bad as his pups seemed to think. The book was one of Master Rennes' old sword treatises, which Vesemir had been reading lately, which meant Lambert went into Vesemir's room to get it for him... an unusually caring gesture for Lambert.</p><p>Before Vesemir could get too deeply engrossed in the book he was being forced to read, he smelled apples on the air. His head snapped to Eskel, visible on the other side of the fire in the kitchen. “Those are for—ah! Those are for dinner!” He moved to get up only to have Geralt's strong hand pin him in place.</p><p>In the kitchen, Eskel rolled his eyes. “Been cooking for myself on The Path for quite a while now, just trust me. I'm doing dinner too, so stop worrying.”</p><p>Geralt's restraining hand suddenly pushed him forward. “Can you lean a little? Got the salve.”</p><p>Vesemir was done insisting he didn't need help, they weren't listening anyways. Geralt let him untuck his own shirt (a small dignity) before rubbing one of their medicinal salves across Vesemir's lower back where the muscles were pulled and irritated. It was the hot salve that burned at first before pushing deep into the tissue, relaxing any knotted muscles. Already, he felt the pain recede.</p><p>“Thank you,” he mumbled. Geralt left the tin with him and went back to his other tasks.</p><p>For the next half an hour, Vesemir watched his pups work around him, taking care of chores and tasks they'd seen him do a thousand times. Managing the more domestic work was his job, he sent them out to address the larger chores that needed more than two hands, yet they did these menial tasks without complaint. Except Lambert, but that was more a kind of benign boredom than actual malice.</p><p>Then Eskel plopped a bowl of stew in Vesemir's hands and they all paused their work for lunch. He frowned when he smelled the apple chunks that were supposed to be for dinner, then frowned again when Eskel's stew was better than the one he had planned.</p><p>Eskel smirked. “Told ya.”</p><p>After lunch, they didn't dissipate around the keep like usual, going off to pursue their own activities, but stayed in the hall playing cards or dice, keeping close if Vesemir needed anything... They didn't say it, but he recognized the behavior. It's what he did when they were injured and needed extra tending. The fact that his boys—his pups, more like sons now that the old pains had fallen away—knew how to take care of Vesemir after watching him do the same for them made his chest tight. So he stopped thinking about it.</p><p>Instead, he grunted. “Am I allowed down to the springs? Or am I invalided for the rest of winter?”</p><p>They all huffed at that, Eskel shaking his head, but Geralt helped Vesemir out of the chair, the pain in his back already a little better after the rest they forced him to take. Geralt followed him to the springs, watching him on the stairs, then left him to soak in peace.</p><p>Alone now, Vesemir sunk into the hot water and closed his eyes. Out of all the things he taught them, he never expected them to learn the easy caring he had to teach himself to keep the last of his pack from falling apart after times got tough. He'd never been more proud.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The salve they use on Vesemir's back is just tiger balm, that stuff is freaking magic.</p><p>I also don't know how cooking works. Can you put apples in a stew to compliment autumn flavors? Sounds logical to me...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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